My odometer rolled over to 40. The doctor of Mysterious Lady Parts said go for a mammogram…so I went.
Ladies, if you’ve had this done, you know they just grab your bits and smash them all around and they don’t kiss you or send flowers the next day. It’s so…clinical and cold and impersonal. Grab your flesh, smush it, take images, repeat.
I’m 40. This is a baseline test. No big deal.
Only, it was a big deal. Radiologist saw something and wanted me to come back for more images and an ultrasound, but they can’t get me in for both for a week. Oh my god. “Panic” is not the word for the blood running cold terror…knees quaking, hands shaking. I know the statistics and the odds; very slim that I could have cancer……….but not impossible.
I spent the next week in a nervous haze. I spent a Sunday afternoon curled up in my pjs with a good man who held my hand and told me everything would be okay, and even if it wasn’t okay, it would still be okay. I kept repeating “okay” to myself, trying to borrow from his unflinching reassurances.
I had the images done again, and I was hoping the imaging tech would say there was nothing there when she re-imaged me, just a shadow or too much tissue squished up…but she saw something and sent me to ultrasound.
In ultrasound, the technician found something and showed me…something small but something out of place. She said it could be as long as 5 days before a radiologist looked at all the results and called me.
Sitting in the car outside the imaging center—it sounds so dramatic to say it, but it’s true—I looked at beautiful trees ablaze with fall color and I wondered if this could be my last autumn? Dramatic, yes, but in a week full of health concerns, I became so aware of how there are no guarantees, no timelines, no calendars that say how long we get, no matter how healthy we are or aren’t.
I waited. When the call came through to say it’s a cyst, it will disappear on its own, I nearly collapsed with gratitude. I’d been carrying around such fear and stress for days. The relief was huge.
My takeaway from this whole thing is that I will be regular with my exams to find any problems early on. I will also live while I can. I’m pretty honest with those closest to me, but those who stayed close during this scare heard my truths, heard me open up big time, and I don’t regret it. I don’t regret being vulnerable and asking for love when I needed it, and I should do more of that even when I’m not scared out of my mind. Receiving love is something I struggle with, but I liked the feeling of being held in positive thoughts and total care when I let down my guard, so maybe this health scare came just in time to show me the right way to live.